Magic is Power
by LordOfTheProcrastinators
Summary: Pain. For years, it was all he knew. Power. Something he didn't have but desperately wanted. Magic. Something he discovered was real and perhaps it could give him what he wanted. Magic is power, after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

* * *

"Nine," a red-faced Vernon Dursley grunted as he brought his belt down on Harry's back like a whip.

The sound of leather hitting naked skin echoed trough the room and Harry Potter grunted in pain as the belt connected with his already bleeding flesh. He didn't want to give his uncle the satisfaction of hearing him cry out loud in pain. It had been years since he did anything other than silently accepting his punishment and hoping it would end soon.

And besides, he was already used to pain.

"Ten," the belt came down hard one final time and Harry could finally relax his body. He could feel some blood slithering down his back. "That will teach you not to burn our food, freak!" his walrus of an uncle shouted at him before grinning at him in grim satisfaction. "And stop spilling blood on my floor," he growled, "Clean up your mess and go to your room to think about what you did wrong!"

Harry said nothing and did as he was told, he had learned a long time ago to simply keep his mouth shut and comply with his so-called 'family'. When he was done his uncle escorted him to his room.

'_My room'_ Harry thought sourly, _'More like a cage.'_ Nevertheless, he did as he was told.

He always did, it was either this or more punishment. The choice was easy. And just like that, the skinny little freak entered his cupboard under the stairs.

He tightened his fist as he tried to control the rage building up inside of him at of the unfairness of it all. Then, he collapsed on his bed, wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve this treatment. _'No point dwelling on this.'_ he thought. He could already feel the lacerations on his back starting to heal much faster than they were supposed to.

They always did.

Ever since his poor excuse of a family started physically harming him, he discovered he had a special talent; his wounds healed at an accelerated rate, leaving only faint scars were the wounds had been only minutes before.

He wasn't quite sure if he should consider it a gift or a curse. When his uncle discovered this 'ability' he took it as an incentive to cause even more harm without causing any suspicion at his school. Cuts healed in only minutes, broken bones; hours.

The one time someone had questioned Vernon about the scars he simply told them it was because of the car accident Harry's drunk parents had caused and later died from.

Even with this ability, Harry had no power.

He wanted nothing more than to leave this place, to be able to fight back.. to stand up for himself. He felt a wave of powerlessness wash over him as he knew his hopes were in vain. At least for now. "One day, I'll be the one with the power," Harry swore when he felt the last of his wounds close up, leaving only an odd tingling sensation on his back.

After that, he fell asleep. Healing always seemed to drain him of some sort of energy, leaving him very tired and weak.

Line break

He woke up before the crack of dawn and was relieved when, like always, his wounds had healed. Not wanting a repeat of the previous day, he decided to get an early start on his chores for the day.

It was a big day, after all.

'_Dudley's birthday'_ Harry thought, already dreading it.

He started off by taking a shower, the only time he was able to do this was when everyone was still asleep, then he started his chores.

The next hour was spent cleaning the house. Then, he had to move all of Dudley's presents to the living room and arrange them in a presentable fashion.

'_36'_ He counted, _'One less than last year'_ The feeling of dread started to grow, as he knew that somehow he would get the blame for this.

He didn't have any more time to ponder about this as everyone would be getting up soon. He really had to get started on breakfast. Lots of eggs, lots of bacon and lots of butter. Just the way they liked it.

By the time he was almost done, he could hear his uncle, aunt and cousin come down the stairs and walk in the living room.

That was when all hell broke loose.

"36!" he heard his pig cousin squeal, "Last year I had 37!"

Just like expected.

"Freak, come here!"

No way, they were going to blame it on him. A tiny bit of anger began rising up in him/

"Freak," the fat pig demanded, "Did you steal one of Dudley's presents?

Rage started building up inside him.

"No."

"You're lying!" Vernon spat as his face started to turn red.

"No, I'm not!" Harry snapped back, glaring back at his uncle without blinking.

The rage threatened to boil over.

By now his uncle looked right about ready to strangle Harry with his bare hands. "We take you in, we provide you with food and shelter," he shouted as his head looked about as red as a tomato and an angry vein on his forehead looked like it could pop at any second, "And this is how you repay us? By stealing from us and lying about it? That's it, boy, go to your room you will be punished later." he finished as he tried his best to burn a hole in Harry's head with his glare alone.

'_I'm not going to take this anymore'_ Harry thought, he was tired of the way he had been treated all those years

Rage consumed his mind.

"No!" He shouted back.

"Do not disobey me, freak!" The whale of a man shouted back.

No longer able to hold his rage in, he let it go. It literally exploded in a bright sphere of fire emanating from his small, underfed body that sent his uncle flying back and the house ablaze.

For the first time in his short miserable life, Harry felt something inside of him he had never felt before.

For just a split second, he felt Power.

Then, he felt nothing. Consciousness left him.

* * *

Harry was surrounded by a blazing inferno while going in and out of consciousness for short periods of time. A man wearing a purple turban stood next to him, fighting the flames with a steady stream of water. Perhaps he was a fireman? Then he noticed the water came out of a stick, not a hose. It was like magic. He lost consciousness again. When Harry slowly opened his eyes again he was outside, the took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air entering his lungs.

"Close your eyes," he heard a voice say, "It's over now, you should rest."

Harry wasn't sure he could trust the voice, but he was so damned tired. _'Perhaps I should rest my eyes, just for a minute_' he thought woozily as exhaustion finally caught up to him.

He fell asleep as soon as he finished his thought.

When he came to, he was lying in a comfortable bed, more comfortable than any bed he had ever slept in. Of course, that didn't mean much as his bed at his 'home' barely classified as one. The room was dark and dusty, the curtains blocked out almost all light, allowing only a few beams that found their way through one of the many cuts in the fabric. He slowly shifted his weight and tried to push himself up on the bed, but found his body did not comply. Harry gritted his teeth in pain as even the slighted movement caused agony all over his body.

"You won't be able to move without suffering immensely for at least another day or so," Someone said to him, startling him as he wasn't expecting anyone to be in the room with him. Harry's eyes widened as he spotted the man sitting in a dark corner in the room. He was wearing a purple turban and some kind of.. robes? Harry immediately recognized the man as the one who saved him from the fire.

'_The fire I started somehow..'_

"Who are you?" Harry asked, his voice coming out raspy, as he narrowed his eyes at the unknown man.

The man in question didn't reply immediately. First, he locked eyes with Harry and as soon as he did so, Harry could feel something probing his mind. He was sure the man was somehow trying to read his mind. How, he didn't know but he sure as hell wasn't going to just let it happen. "Don't!" Harry growled as he tried to close off his mind.

The man in the turban twitched like something had physically struck him before he raised one eyebrow as a surprised look crossed his face. Then, he narrowed his eyes as he seemed to be sizing Harry up before he spoke. "My name is Quirinus Quirrell, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," He then paused for a second as if not sure he should continue, "I am also a Hunter."

And there it was; Magic. The very idea of it being real excited Harry to his very core. He had seen it with his own eyes, the strange man had put out a fire with nothing but his own Power. The fire Harry had started. Did that mean he had magic too? If that was true, it would open up a whole new world of possibilities.

Perhaps Magic could give him the Power he always wanted.

Then, the second part of what Quirrel said got through to him. The man was a Hunter. "Hunter," Harry mumbled to himself at first before speaking louder at the man, "You mean like a bounty-hunter?" he finished, slightly nervous now. "Are you going to kidnap me?"

"Bounty-Hunter?" Quirrel parroted, then he shook his head, "No, it's not quite as simple as that. And I promise I'm not going to kidnap you or hurt you in any kind of way?"

Harry studied the man's face for a couple of seconds and he found no lies there. Over the years he had become rather good at reading people's intentions by their facial expressions. "I believe you," he said, a bit more at ease, "But that doesn't explain why you were at my.. _uncle's_ house, or where we are right now."

Quirrell reached into his robes and took out a letter. "I was at your house to give you this." he simply stated. There was something scribbled on the outside of it, but from that far away and in the dark Harry couldn't quite read what was on it.

"What is that?" Harry asked curiously.

"This," Quirrell said as he got up and approached Harry, "is your invitation to go to school at Hogwarts. " he finished as he put down the letter on a nightstand next to the bed Harry was resting in.

To say Harry was ecstatic would be an understatement. He was accepted at a school that would teach him magic. Any earlier nervousness or even slight fear he had was gone now. For the first time in his life, as far as he could remember at least, he felt happy. He couldn't stop the smile growing on his face. "So you'll be teaching me magic?" he asked Quirrel.

The man nodded, "That is correct, Mr. Potter. However, I will not be the only one teaching you, there are many different kinds of magic, and for each of those you will have a different teacher." He confirmed.

The sound of his last name sounded weird as he wasn't used to being called anything else than 'Freak' or 'Boy'. Then he realized he hadn't even introduced himself. Quirrel obviously knew his name, but he didn't want to risk being rude to the man who had saved him and would be teaching him how to use magic.

"I'm sorry," Harry began, "I'm being rude, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Harry Potter." he tried to sound as formal as possible. Harry tried to shake to Professor's hand but was quickly reminded he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon as pain coursed trough his body again.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," Quirrel responded as he seemed to notice Harry was in pain. "Like I said, you should rest. You completely drained your body from magic by creating that fire."

And just like that, Harry felt himself coming down from his high from discovering magic was real. Harry frowned as he began to speak. "It was an accident," he closed his eyes for a second as he tried to remember how it happened, "I didn't mean for it to happen, I was just so angry..." he said emphasizing the last word. "You have to belie-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Quirrel interrupted him, "I read their minds after putting out the fire, and if I knew what they did before then I would have left them to burn."

"So they are alive?" Harry asked. His response came in the form of a nod. "And I don't have to go back to them, do I?"

"Of course not, I would never send a child to live with such monsters," he replied harshly, obviously angry at the mere thought anyone should have to live like Harry had.

After that, they both remained silent for a while.

"You said you read their minds," Harry said, breaking the silence, "You tried to do the same to me." Harry accused him.

Quirrel didn't even try to deny it. "I did," he confirmed, before giving Harry an impressed look, "And you stopped me. That was very impressive, especially for one so young."

Harry was barely able to withhold a smile at the compliment, it was the first real compliment he ever got, after all. Even still he was still angry at the man for what he tried to do. "Promise you're not going to try that again," Harry demanded.

In Quirrel's defense, he did look like he regretted it. "I apologize for the intrusion, it won't happen again." He said as he slightly bowed his head.

"So, what happens now?" Harry asked, eager to learn more about magic.

"Now, you rest," Quirrell said in a tone that allowed no discussion. "Tomorrow, we will get you your school supplies."

"Fine," Harry agreed as he could clearly see the man was serious. Besides, he could barely move.

Quirrel went to go get a vial containing some weird, purple-colored fluid inside of it. "Drink this, it will speed up the healing process," he said as he poured it into a cup and brought it closer to Harry so he could drink it.

As soon as the smell hit his nose, Harry's face contorted in disgust. "It stinks!" He tried to protest.

"The sooner you drink this, the sooner you will be up and walking about," Quirrel replied.

Once again, Harry could detect no lies from the man. Despite everything that happened he found himself quickly trusting Quirrel, something he hadn't expected considering most of his experiences with adults weren't exactly pleasant.

So he drank it.

He regretted it immediately as he tried not to puke. "That tastes disgusting." he managed to say while trying to keep it all in.

"It does," Quirrel confirmed.

"Do all potions taste this bad?"

Harry already knew the answer from the amused look on his new Professor's face.

"I'm afraid they do."

* * *

**Chapter 2 will be up soon.**

**Re-upload of an old story. I uploaded in a crossover section when it really didn't belong there. This story will use some hunterxhunter concepts but it doesn't actually use any of the characters of said anime.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express

* * *

Harry was staring idly out of the window at the mass of Wizards and Witches waving their children goodbye as the Hogwarts Express departed from Kings Cross station. Some of them were smiling proudly as they watched their kids wave back from inside the train, while others openly let out some tears.

'_Probably parents of first years,' _Harry thought bitterly to himself. No one was there for him, of course. Not that he would want any of his relatives to be there, the only ones he knew of were his aunt and uncle and If he never saw them again, it would still be to soon. His father was an only child, so any hope of having another aunt or uncle who were, at the very least, decent people was quickly extinguished.

At least he finally knew how his parents really died. It wasn't in a drunk driving accident like harry had believed for all those years. No, they were murdered. He found out the truth when he had asked Quirrell about it. Quirrel's expression had gone grave when he heard about how Harry was told his parents had died.

He told Harry everything, Voldemort's rise to power, the first great wizarding war until the final night when Voldemort tried to kill a young child, named Neville Longbottom, who would later be known as the boy-who-lived, all because of some prophecy. And the lesser known tale, how the Ancient and Noble house of Potter almost died out on the same night. The night Voldemort himself went out to kill Alice and Frank Longbottom, believing their son to be the one from the prophecy, his right-hand man, or woman, in this case, Bellatrix Lestrange was sent out to end the Potters. Just to be sure.

Harry still remembered hearing his mothers' screams pleading with Bellatrix to 'Please don't hurt Harry' and how the woman responded with a dark chuckle before pointing her wand at Lilly and speaking two words. A flash of green light later and Lilly Potter was no more. She then pointed her wand at a young Harry and intended to cut his stay on earth short, she began to speak the words of the spell but was abruptly cut off as she felt her connection to her master disappear. For at that exact same time Voldemort's killing curse rebounded and his body was destroyed. The shock of it all caused Bellatrix Lestrange to be reduced to a sobbing mess.

That was the scene the aurors found when they finally arrived at the Potter mansion. It was that day a young boy named Neville Longbottom was hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived, and for Harry, it was the day he had lost everything. the loss of the Potters was a source of great sorrow at first, but over the years people moved on, and slowly but surely they were forgotten.

Harry swore to himself he would make the Potter name great again as he tightened his fist in anger.

**KNOCK KNOCK**

Only to be ripped from his thoughts as someone knocked on his compartment door. Harry turned his head to see who it was as the door opened and a pretty brown haired girl, who seemed to be about his age, peeked her head in the compartment before speaking. "Excuse me, do you mind if we sit with you? Everywhere else is pretty much full."

"Ehh, sure," Harry answered after taking a second to recollect his thoughts.

"Thank Merlin, if we had to listen to Malfoy talk about his father for one more second I would have killed myself" she replied as she let out a sigh of relief before smiling brightly at Harry. "The name's Tracy by the way, Tracey Davis. And these two are Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass," she finished pointing at the two people still standing behind her as she sat herself down on the opposite side of Harry.

The first one, Zabini, was a tall, dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones and an almost regal appearance, who nodded at Harry with a "Nice to meet you" before sitting down next to him.

The las one to enter was Daphne Greengrass, a blonde girl with grayish-blue eyes and very pale, almost white skin. It was obvious to anyone who saw her the girl would grow up to become a very beautiful woman. She stiffly nodded at him and didn't say a word as she took her place next to Tracey.

"You'll have to forgive Daphne for being a bit grumpy," Tracey said as she looked disapprovingly at her friend, "She just spent the last fifteen minutes being hit on by Draco Malfoy, of all people."

Harry just nodded, pretending to understand, not really sure who this Draco was.

"I swear I was _this _close to cursing the git," The blonde grumbled in response.

It quickly became clear to Harry that Tracey was the most talkative of the little group as she turned back to him and gave him an expectant look. "Soooooooo," she said drawing out the word longer than necessary. "Are you going to tell us your name?"

"Oh, uhm, of course," Harry managed to stumble out, cursing his lack of people skills. He would have to work on that. "My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

"Huh, I didn't know there were any Potters left," a surprised Tracey answered. "Why have we never met before?"

"Very tactful as always, Tracey." Zabini scolded her.

As Tracey realized what she said her face immediately fell, "Oh, I'm sorry. I have this bad habit of just blurting out the first thing that pops in my head."

"Apology accepted," Harry responded and a smile of relief made her way back on the embarrassed Tracey. "The reason we never met was because I was.." he paused for a second and tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone, "_raised_ in the muggle world. I didn't even know magic was real until recently."

They all frowned at that before falling in a slightly uncomfortable silence.

"So what house do you want to be sorted into?" the dark skinned boy, Blaise asked in an obvious attempt to break the silence.

This was a question Harry had been thinking about after reading 'Hogwarts: A History' "Honestly, I'm not sure yet. But if I had a choice it would either be Ravenclaw or Slytherin," he truthfully responded.

"A Potter wanting to be sorted in Slytherin," Blaise said while raising his eyebrows disbelievingly, "I don't think that ever happened before. Your family is rather known for being Gryffindors."

"So all the Potters were Gryffindors then?" Harry asked, curious to learn a bit more about his family.

"Most of them, yes. Sometimes one gets sorted in Hufflepuff, but for the rest always Gryffindor." then, Blaise smiled, "Except for your grandfather, Charlus Potter, he was a Slytherin."

"That must have caused quite the uproar," Harry commented, already knowing about the ever-present rivalry between the two houses. Over the past few days Harry had also researched his family tree, in an attempt to find any more living relatives and when he came to the name Charlus Potter, one other word stood out: Hunter. "He was a Hunter, right?"

"Not just any Hunter, he surpassed everyone's expectations and became one of the greatest Hunters the Magical world had ever seen." he confirmed.

"What exactly is a Hunter?" Harry continued, "When I asked Professor Quirrell about it, he was very vague."

"Of course he was, Hunters are always a bit… let's just call it excentric," He paused for a moment, probably thinking about how to answer, "To put it simply, they are the best of the best. They can do anything from finding a missing person, to discovering new recipes for the best kinds of food. When the government wants to take down some new up and coming Dark Lord but their Aurors aren't up for the task, they call the Hunters. And they all have one thing in common, they are the best at what they do."

"Do you know how my grandfather died?"

"He didn't," Blaise responded quickly, "At least not that we know of, according to my mother, he just left on some incredibly dangerous mission and never returned."

"Your mother is a Hunter too, then?" Harry asked.

Blaise responded with a nod of the head.

"Thank you, this has been very informative," Harry said grateful to have learned more about this new world he was only recently introduced to. It was at that moment Harry made the first decision that would guide the course of his life forever; on his quest for power, becoming a Hunter was his first trial. _'I'll become the greatest Hunter this world has ever seen,' _he vowed to himself.

"I'm pretty sure us three will be sorted into Slytherin. So should you get sorted there too, at least you will have some friendly faces around." he finished, presenting his hand as a sign of friendship. It took Harry less than a second to make the second important decision of that day.

They shook hands.

"I'd like that," He accepted the offer of friendship, and for the first time in his life, Harry smiled.

'_And perhaps I don't have to do it alone' _he added to his previous thought as he looked at the three people surrounding him.

**I forgot how good it feels to see every follow and review. Hopefully this will get me back into writing!**


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